


Tub Thed

by IT_GIRL_RH



Category: Radiohead (Band)
Genre: Drug Use, First Time, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 12:29:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10571334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IT_GIRL_RH/pseuds/IT_GIRL_RH
Summary: Ed and Thom get stoned and make-out in a bathtub. Yep. This could be the start of something wonderful.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Updated: 28 Mar 2010, 30 Mar 2010
> 
> It will be some time before I can finish this. If you just can't wait, check the Spoliers for my notes on the ending. :)

I remember the first time we kissed. It was at that god awful party... When I was back from school. When was that? I can't remember specifically. That time back then all runs together in my mind now anyway. The time doesn't matter. It's that kiss that was important.

It was one of those days that should have been perfect but turned bitter. I'd come back from uni for us to play that party. Was it that ginger girl's birthday? The one Colin nearly shagged that time... what was her name? Miranda? No... Well.... it doesn't matter. We all got together that afternoon for a last-minute practice and it was surprisingly spot-on. We sounded great, like it hadn't been ages since we'd played together. That made us feel proud as if we were professional musicians getting ready for a real gig. When we showed up at the party, we were already rolling on puffy self-congratulatory cloud. Then the party was great fun... really great fun. A lot of our friends were there, some back from uni too. The beer was flowing and by the time we played, everyone was ready for it. We plowed into our set to adoring cheers. We felt like fucking real life rock stars. And we sounded great, to top it all off. Everything just went right. We were all in the zone. It was amazing. Probably the best gig we'd ever played at that point. God! It was great!

Afterwards, people fawned over us, got us drinks, and girls practically threw their lacy panties at our feet. Thom, especially, reveled in the adoration. Which is when everything went downhill.

It always happened. When Thom was young, he never felt like he measured up. When he got into a position where things were going well, he'd be sure to cock it up somehow. He was remarkably good at cocking things up. This time he did it by awkwardly and garishly throwing himself at possibly the only girl in the room who wouldn't give him the time of day. He was embarrassed, of course, and more than a little irked by her slapping him like he wasn't a rock star. But you couldn't really blame her, what with the way he called her out in front of God and everyone. What else could she do? Anything but slapping his face was more or less saying "Yes. I am a manky old whore and I'd love to ride you like a cowgirl, boy-I've-never-met. Thank you for your thoughtfully-timed and vulgar offer." But it was still crushing to Thom's fragile ego. Which he of course tried to cover the only way he knew how: completely misdirected rage.

Colin was normally the one to step in and sort Thom out when he got like this. But Colin had left with some pretty little thing from the record shop who'd come round to see him and worship at his altar. Jonny and Phil had already left with the equipment and to get Jonny home for curfew. Naturally, no one sober was anywhere to be found. It was left to me to pull feral little Thom away from the hornet nests he'd keep kicking with his unbelievably vulgar mouth and to try to smooth things over before he got into a row he wouldn't win. It was also up to me to get him to stop from drinking himself into oblivion and make a bigger ass out of himself than he already had. So much for the wonderful night it had promised to be.

That was how we'd ended up in the bathtub together. After a particularly inspired string of obscenities had set off a rather large and mean looking boaty bloke, I pulled Thom down a back stair and through the first unlocked door I found. It turned out to be a bathroom no one at the party had seemed to have discovered yet. It was quiet and serene, at least. Thom looked two sheets past it and I was worried he might get sick. I figured hiding out there for a few minutes of calm would do everyone some good. 

I locked the door and poured the rest of Thom's vodka down the plughole while he cursed at my back. I took up a perch on the edge of the tub and pulled a joint from my pocket. That shut Thom up and he sat down on the lid of the toilet. He flicked on his lighter and held it out to me as I smoothed out the spliff. I leaned forward to light it and when I leaned back, I slipped into the tub. My ass squeaked enchantingly against the porcelain all the way down as I splayed out my arms and legs, trying to keep my balance enough not to spill my beer or drop the joint. I was drunker than I thought but not so drunk that I spilled my beer. We both laughed. Thom nearly fell onto the floor laughing. He said sitting in the tub looked more comfy than sitting on the toilet and joined me, trying to make his ass squeak down the side of the tub too. So there we were sitting in some strangers bathtub, with our legs hanging over the edge. The difference in the length of our legs was comical and it continued to set us off again and again on a giggling fit as we shared the joint. We both needed the laugh. I thought it was the tension breaker Thom needed. It wasn't.


	2. Chapter 2

When we finished giggling for the last time and I wiped away my tears of laughter, I glanced over at Thom. He was wiping away tears too. He looked away from me and his whole body seemed to deflate. He kept wiping at his eyes. It took several moments for me to realize that he wasn't still laughing, that he was crying now instead. Then I felt like the world's biggest asshole for sitting there staring while my mate cried next to me in a bloody bathtub.

I had no idea what to do. That was squarely Colin territory. We'd all dealt with a blithering drunk Thom from time to time, of course, but Colin was the only one who was good at it. The rest of us usually just threw an awkward arm around Thom's shoulders while we desperately scoped the room for Colin. Colin would come trotting up, assess the situation in about ten seconds, say exactly the right thing and we'd all be back to happy times again. Easy peasy. Actually, Colin wasn't just a master of dealing with a drunk blithering Thom. He was a Master of dealing with drunk blithering anyone. He'd fixed up a drunk blithering Ed on more than one occasion, a lot more than one. He deserved a night off I supposed.

I slid an awkward arm around Thom's shoulders eventually and said some inane words of comfort, something brilliant like "It's okay, Thom."

After a few minutes, Thom sniffled. "Why don't girls like me?"

"I don't know. Probably same reason they don't like me."

Thom Looked at me sideways "Bollocks, Ed. You're a fucking babe magnet."

I laughed. "No. I'm not. I'm too tall and I'm too nice and I get stuck in the friend zone every single fucking time."

Thom sloshed his head at me in drunken disbelief. "You think I'm too tall and too nice? That's my problem?" Thom scoffed. "So you think if I was just a little shorter and a little ruder, then I'd get laid more often... or ever?"

I laughed and was pleased to note that he'd stopped crying. "Ok. Maybe not exactly the same reasons... but... gees, Thom. You've got to be... I don't know... nicer, though, Thom. You can't just walk up to a girl in the middle of a party and demand a shag for fuck's sake, Thom!"

"Oh." Thom waved his hand dismissively in the air. "That stuck up bint wasn't going to talk to me in the first place. No loss. That was... I was just taking the piss." He picked at a thread poking up from the hole in the knee of his jeans. He pulled it out and rolled it between his fingers, looking thoughtful. After a minute, he continued. "Abbie already shot me down. Fucking bitch." He snarled out the last words as he tried flicking the ball of string towards the sink. It fell on his thigh instead. I looked down at it and noticed how nice his thigh looked in his tight-fitting jeans. I leaned over and gingerly placed my beer on a shelf by the tub.

I'd noticed that before, that Thom had nice thighs. But I'd never thought to mention it to him. Maybe I should tell him that his thigh looks nice, I thought to myself. He do with a compliment right about then, I was sure. But then I thought better of it. That would have been a weird compliment. I was sure I could come up with something better than that. Even drunk and stoned I could come up with a better compliment than "Hey, mate! Your thigh looks really nice in those jeans you've got on there. " Yeah. Colin would never compliment some one's thigh, I decided. Instead, I squeezed Thom's shoulder and rubbed his arm lightly. He looked up and smiled at me. Colin would be proud, I thought.

Then it hit me. "Abbie?!" I turned and stared at Thom. "You can do better than Abbie." Maybe I shouldn't have said that, I suddenly realised. What if he liked her? I made a clumsy attempt at the drunken backpedal. "But if you like her... Do you like her? I mean if you like her then..."

"Well. No. But I thought she'd say yes if I asked her out. No one else is gonna ask her out." He sniffled and wiped the back of his hand over his eyes. "Girls just don't fucking like me. I hate it."

I didn't know what to say. I almost scanned the room for Colin out of habit. I wanted to make Thom feel better, I just had no idea how to do it. I pulled him closer and he yielded to me. He curled up under my arm like a gosling under a wing. He laid his face against my chest and started to sob. 

It broke my heart.

I put my chin against the top of his head. His hair always smelled great. (Curse or blessing of being tall is that I always know how people's hair smells. His hair still always smells so nice. Thom is now and always has been a very well groomed young man. But back to my story.) Thom's hair smelled great. Girls must like that. I thought maybe I should tell him that. No. "Gee, mate, your hair smells terrific!" was an even lamer compliment than "Hey, mate, you've got nice thighs!" Instead, I whispered, " Shhh! Shhh! It's ok." as I ran my hand over his back and made small circles with my fingers.

"I'm fucking ugly. That's why." He gasped out after the sobs finally subsided. "I'm a gnome and ugly and no one will ever want me." His voice was quiet and pained and it made my stomach ache.

He was so wrong. But I worried he might actually believe the crap he was saying. How could anyone believe such awful lies? I looked down to his face and tilted his chin up so I could see his eyes. So I could maybe see in them what he was really thinking. 

His cheeks were flushed and rosy against his pale creamy skin. His lips were full and red and parted just enough for me to make out the warm pink tongue hidden behind them. His lashes were dark and moist and glistening from his tears. His eyes were bright and pleading... and... and still dancing with stars despite that glint of sadness. How could he have possibly not been aware of how beautiful he was? I wiped away a silvery tear from his cheek with my thumb. I looked him over again, carefully, slowly, purposefully. I wasn't going to lie to him. I was going to tell him the Truth. Because he needed to hear it and he needed to believe it. And because, I wanted to be... to be the one he believed. 

"No. Thom." I said with more conviction than I would have ever imagined I could have mustered while stoned in a bathtub. "You're beautiful."


	3. Chapter 3

He blinked at me. He looked so fragile and so innocent. He looked down then back up to meet my eyes, searching, trying to read me. "You... you think I'm beautiful?" He looked down and drew his bottom lips over his teeth before looking back up. "Really?"

I nodded. "Like a painting."

He frowned. I wanted to convince him because what I was saying was completely true even though it sounded corny. There was a painting in a book once. Spitting image of Thom. "Tragic Greek Youth" or something. I had shown it to Colin and Colin had agreed that it looked like Thom. I had thought about showing it to Thom at the time but I didn't want him to think I was weird because it was a painting of a naked dude. So I didn't. I should have let him see it though. Let him see exactly how beautiful he was. I mean, master painters imagined perfect youthful male beauty to look exactly like Thom. What more of a seal of approval do you need, really? I knew how it was, though. You can't see past your own flaws and you get caught up in them. It's hard to see yourself the way the rest of the world does. I made a mental note to find that book for Thom. Colin would remember what it was called.

Thom tilted his head then looked past my shoulder, still frowning and looking skeptical. I touched his chin and brought his face to mine. He looked so sad. I didn't want him to be sad. I wanted him to believe me.

"You are. You're so beautiful." I said looking him straight in the eye so he could see I wasn't lying. He still looked sad and doubtful.

I closed my eyes and leaned down and kissed him, lightly on the lips. His lips were softer and warmer than I expected. He opened his mouth for me and tilted his head. My tongue automatically slipped into his mouth. He slid his hand up my chest to my neck and pulled me toward him. His tongue wrapped around mine and I sighed. He was a really good kisser. Jesus. Girls were fucking idiots. 

The kiss deepened and I was completely lost in it. We were tangled together awkwardly in the concave of the tub. But Thom was small and agile and strong and somehow managed to make it work. He straddled me on his knees so his face was above mine. He bent my neck back and held the back of my head as he rather skilfully ravaged my mouth. I wanted to pull him down onto me so our bodies could move against each other but it wouldn't work in the confines of the tub. So I satisfied myself by I letting my hands wander over his back and over his arse. I caressed his thighs. I could feel the muscles straining against the denim. Yeah. He had fucking amazing thighs. 

There was a loud bang on the bathroom door followed by some girl's drunken pleas to let her in. 

We were both startled and broke apart. Thom whipped his head around and yelled a very angry "Fuck off!" toward the locked bathroom door.

That was when it hit me. Fuck! I'm kissing Thom. Thom! Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Thom. Shit! Fuck. Shit. Thom. Dammit.

He turned back to me and when he saw me he seemed as surprised as I was. He looked down at my hands still gripping his thighs and his eyes went wide. He didn't look at me again. He put his hands on the edge of the tub behind me and powered himself up off of me in a move only a drunk gymnast could pull off with so much grace. And I felt guilty for thinking about how sexy that was. And I felt even more guilty for staring at his exposed belly where his shirt rode up while he did it and for noticing how his abdominal muscles flexed under his downy treasure trail and under his creamy, soft skin as he rose effortlessly away from me. And I felt guiltier when I realized I was now fully hard and that had only happened after I remembered it was Thom I'd been snogging for the last half hour. But what made me feel the most guilty was realizing just how much I fucking hated the person on the other side of that door for interrupting us.

**Author's Note:**

> It will be some time before I can finish this. If you just can't wait, check the Spoliers for my notes on the ending. :)


End file.
